DAY 15/16 - LAST DAYS! stories from the souk, nostalgia already close

DAY 15

I've never ever actually seen a creature die, but last night a streetcat was in extreme pain and we stayed with 4 guys around him untill death took us part. It made me think about the performance, and that's a good sign (concerning my wish for tapping this topic)

It's morning and we have some time to buy typical presents for the ones we love. I know that when I bring one of these souvenirs home they will be taken gledly, and will be seen as something special, but I see thousands of shisa's, scarfs and soaps and I refuse to take time to enjoy their differences. Mainly because on top of that, the salesman are asking the same question over and over: where you come from? In the end I can only find pleasure in making up some Skandinavian language to answer them, and by acknowledging how beautyfull their products actually are...

We (Robin and me) finally notice a very small allay where the too skinny dressed groups doesn't show much interest in. We find a Palestinien who sells herbs and spices who tells us in correct English that his family runs this small store for centuries, something our 'HEMA' can't even compete with.
He gives us 7 bags of the most local grown ones and writes on the plastic what to use them for.
If I want to give him more Sjekels then agreed he won't take it.

I'm beginning to recognise some people walking in the market and it feels kind of cool to shake hands with the locals. I check if the other tourists see me shaking this but their eyes are focussed on  colourfull parfums. Bummer. Still I love to read the eyes of the locals we get to know from the performances, because they show happyness and gratitude. At these moments I forget to check if my wallet is still their.
I hear Dutch, my language. He tells his wife to watch her wallet, and I tell her that it's probably more safe in this souk then in The Netherlands.
The boys we just shaked hands with show us the place to buy arabic coffee. He speaks to the man to be sure he gives us the local price. Yes, some tourists notice the agreement, and I feel less a tourist.

here's a plastic machinegun holdet by a man who tries to sell the pink/green flashing noisemaker.
He looks as if he doesn't remember shooting it for quite some time now, but his expression changes when he notice my attention.
Nobody including the veteran looks interested in the gun, and if I want to make a picture of him he doesnt get angry enough to aim the toi at me... too late, I shot first.










Not even 100 meters further these boys were playing with much more realistic looking toys (sometimes you can not even tell the difference), but when I shoot my camera the leader does't give up that easely and starts unlaoding his fantasy at my bulletproof t'shirt. I decite to not play the game.

Fortunately the souk also has other toi's in the market, and so I started making pictures from these creepy creatures who are dying to be unwrapped.

 
 


Without any real damage but dying of first I finally reach my hostel. When I enter the room I see a girl who looks very happy with her new pink tank that doesn't seem to have a real destination,
but is bumping into some happy feet... their Rosalie's.
She bought the innocent looking vehicle for just 25 Sjekel. The overjoyed duo also awakes Robin's enthousiasm to buy it, but this time for not less then 40 Sjekel.

Panicking as a real control freak I started creating a soloperformance, in case Mohammed won't show up on time. I'm happy and disappointed at the same time when he walkes in carelessly and greats me with a hug.
"Kill your darlins and start working together" I thouth, and as promissed (to myself) I am carefull to give him at least equal space. Space to come up with ideas and decissions. But it seems that we are still working in the same frequency. So we take time to be silent and enjoy the wonderfull view of Jerusalem with clouds that quickly change colours to eventually enter in darkness, and give us the the space to express our insecurities about being dead.

DAY 16 - going back

In a rush I pack my bags and throw -with five seconds of doubt- my collected statue stones in a container. It's sunday and the only thing to do is clean the location and catch a plane, and cause of all the impressions last two weeks, there's not much more my body will let me do.

during eating a fantastic salad this palestinien girl just pass by and tells us -with a smile on her face- that she fights for expressing her oppinnion and that she was 4 months in jail. I'm not surprised cause I've heard worse stories around here but this is the first direct one. Suddenly I can imagine that if your life doesn't change cause of politics or other religions, it's possible you won't fight for something 'better'.

After Tel Aviv's extreme controle checks and a pleasant take off I realize they didn't check two 100ml bottles of parfume in my handluggage!. And that's after I bought a can of beer and I asked if I could take it in the plane, but eventually couldn't. The lady escordet me personally to wrap my beer in plastic together with some herbs that also magicly passed three checkpoints, to put it with the normal luggage...
Maybe I should suddenly start spraying everybody in the plane to spredd some positive terror.

2 hours of writing plus two hours of sleep later the 33m metal bird agressively splits the air above the first signs of live in Belgium, when the windows seperate the outside from the romantic and peacefull experience inside the plain. The closer we reach solid materials the less romantic my thoughts become. For a second I believe we will crash or at least have a very rough landing but before I know it the wheels run smoothly across the runway. Just like my experiences in Jerusalem.

from left to right: Nina Willems, Rosalie Wammes, Robin Coops, Nick Steur (me)
want to react or see more info about me and my performancework?  www.nicksteur.com

DAY 14 - The festival is a succes. People join together in music!

                     

on location...

Mohammed's view

my view

One girl came to me and said; "I didn't laugh this loud in months!" 

Mohammed told me that as a woman, you may not be too expressive here, while the opposit sex can. 

Woman can't laugh loud, must keep their bodylanguage small, can't do anything crazy, that's what man demand around here.

Our performance tells the opposit, we must express and take space, show reality, show feelings.

Even Mohammed is experiencing breaktroughs, in every performance he opens up and expresses even more! And this is what we wanted to acchieve personally as well as with the public!

I was so amazingly happy with that girl's reaction! 

People here are not used to be silent as a public: they eat, smoke, chat and call just as easily as if they are in the streets. I'm really happy our public is concentrated to see, lissten and experience something new...

I bought this book in Jerusalem west, it's made in China, but still you have to open it at the left side :-)

It's the guestbook that i give to the audience during the grand finale... This is where I put the hearts in that I collected these weeks downtown.

(There's a lot more pictures, for later!)

Al Quds underground festival is 3 days long, each day 3 groups of 12 persons follow different routes, they see 5 performances in living rooms in the old centre of Jerusalem, afterwards they can enjoy the big final where we make music with the local artists here.

I believe everybody is really satisfied with tonight's festival, a soufi singer just made our hearts cry,

I was opening the festival speaking Arabic, the birds from Rosalie are beautyfully hanging above the final stage, voices of differrent cultures mixing together thanks to Nina, Robin and their actors, 

Merlijn's violin contributed to the sounds of the local instruments like the ut, the saxophone was communicating with the flute the twinbrothers motivated the public with their raps and beats,
we used paintbrushes to drum the metal railings, when children were saying their wishes out loud. A few hundred people were very vividly present....

What an evening.

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 11 - dealing with culture, moving vertically

1.5 hours later Mohammed stood in our rehearsing room, sweating and taking some breath.

"i'm sorry, I was at the American embassy, they took my phone, they don't care if I have an appointment or not... they just say relax, it's okay, take it easy it's okay..."

I could only look at his face when he spoke, it's making all kinds of flexible mini-yoga movements and because of that my irritation about waiting again, was gone directly.

After an hour of struggeling with words on paper, which we had to translate in Arabic, we stood where I made this picture above: On the roof of the house from Ghaddar, the man who trusts us to make a performance there (!). Beautyfull. You can see all kinds of religions asking for attention on an altitude where most houses don't dare to build. If you have a wall around your city, you can eventually move only vertically, and that's exactly what families (that expand), religions, and even we do.

Taking space is our problem, our motivation and now our intention.

The public lays down to look at the stars. We lay down to look at them.

Suddenly I have a better idea then all my artistic ideas last month (considering this project):

This friday it's possible that Mohammed can not make it on time, to perform together. He lives in Ramallah so he needs to go trough a checkpoint, and you never know how long that takes.

So I had to think about making a solo for that situation.

Suddenly I began to think freely again and I thouth of something more visual and fysical, the things i do best. I'm too used to making solo's, so when I work with Mohammed I like to direct him, and that's not the meaning of this project for me. It's collaborating. So tomorrow I let control go again, like these strangers I contantly ran into:

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 10 - taking the time, claiming the space.

To many people need to much space, creepy babies are staring in your face. Just wrap a generation, a whole bloody nation,
Give us some spacetime to put them in graves.


This day was immensely important. Let me tell you why.
I met Mohammed in the hotelbar. He just had 3 days with his family and friends cause a familymember died. He looked tyred. "I didn't sleep or eat these days" he said.
We spoke about it. He doesn't like the way how funelrals happen here.
"There are so many people, and they all say "I'm sorry", "don't cry", and they don't let you cry, they don't give you the space to experience loss."

When we arranged our agenda's he directly said that he wanted to speak about freedom in the performance. He doesn't feel free because he has to pay the bill, has to carry an identitycard, has to react to the phone etc. etc. He doesn't have space to choose things for himself. Let me come back on that.

I am busy with a picture collection of hearts drawn on the streetwalls.
Because it's something that you normally don't see, but if I collect them it becomes a bigger event.
The same happens in the media (about Israel). They concentrate on war, fighting, death, blood, loss. Offcourse that's just a small part of reality. I'd like to concentrate now on another side of life here.

"So, in stead of concentrating on the habbits of stress, I would like to concentrate on our needs" - I said to Mohammed. Maybe we should claim the space, in stead of being slaves of stuff, of others, who want things from you. Let's concentrate on the freedom to choose, to claim space for ourselves.
I think we should give ourselves this space, and not wait for people (or God/Allah) to give it."

He seemed very exited and I showed him the text I wrote last night. I slept 4 hours so I hoped he was exited on this too.

The concept is this:
We are looking through a big hole in the roof, at the public. We are stuck on the roof, between heaven and earth. We are there for 200 years already, longing for eigther earthly life with all it's sensations (longing for the past, down there with the people) - or heaven, with all it's promises (craving for the future, up there in the sky, where the public is also looking at).
We are stuck and bored. Waiting for something to tell us what to do, who puts us on our place.
Our boredom sometimes comes with noises from the mouth, and this will transform into making music together. Suddenly we see eachother! We are the same here, same rittme, enjoying this moment. Suddenly we don't long for other places and other times. We claim the roof. We claim this space!
Lets live here!

I wanted to speak about death with Mohammed this morning because death is such a big event, that it forces you to connect to the things that really matter, the things you really need from the heart. And this is exactly what we did today. Taking space and time in order to express ourselves to eachother.

I realise this all sounds a bit dreamy to you, and it is, because stories are dreamy. They are not real.
They are not in the present. Stories are in the head, in the past or in the future.
Tomorrow we rehearse on the roof... very real. Yes.

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 9 - Taking a spit in the neck

Today a little boy spit me in my neck. He must have thought I was a settler.  His friend excused him for me and kicked him.

Today I paid 7 sjekel for a coke. "it's five, it's five, it's five, it's five, no it's five!" it's the first time I succeed in getting my money back.

Today I bought honey cause back home I only drink thee with honey, never with sugar. When I put it in my glass which I also bought today cause I didn't like the papercups in our hostel I thought; maybe I am no different then any other person who tries to defend their reality (thought about religion for example).

Today I finally found a shop who can print my hearts in colour. Tomorrow I pick them up. It might take three days maar dan heb je ook wat. Hearts on photopaper.. yes.

Tomorrow I finally work with my actor and so, as a brave dutch, I spent all day thinking of what to do tomorrow.
But it gave me a the next questions > What if space is narrowed to a squere meter and you have to share it?
What if you die in this situation but you can do it all over again?
Offcourse this relates to the situation here. Two groups, the Palestinien and the settlers, in a too narrow space (sometimes fysically, sometimes mentally). Why denying this situation if it's their everyday live? This was the discussion between me Nina and Rosalie, and I think they're right in the end.
The roof where we look through to the audience could be a place of reflection, stuck between heaven and earth.
Death always confronts life, it brings us down to the questions that matter. And since Mohammed had a funeral these days I think this is the way we should search. The (also personal) search for real contact goes on.
(and if that means a spit in the neck so be it)

'love' 

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 8 - no love today but hope for tomorrow

Sometimes a day is not ment to actually get things done.

After several nights with 6 hours sleep I just wanted to sleep, but I didn't, I passed my breakfast to join the group for a tour. Once I was there and the tourguide didn't seem like a young fast walking guy I headed back for food. I wanted to work (but I could have slept in).

The title is not totally correct. But let me keep that for the end of this story. 

The first two hours I spend on my macbook to try to get my heartpictures ready for printing,

then I spend a few hours- searching for a shop to print them. In the end I only had 9 vaque black and white prints on ugly paper and I felt like I spend all my energy for that day allready (imagine walking trough tourists in narrow streets for hours).

I went to see the boys, the twinrappers. There was no way for them to actually make something theatrically interesting together without mentioning politics, and I excused myself for my arrogance yesterday.

That was the end of the line with them I thought, but Merlijn knew how to make them enthousiastic again, some karacteristic I can be very jalours about.... 

I decited to expand my collection of heart - and shopping window puppet - pictures. Somehow they are even uglier and stranger than yesterday. 

As a vegetarien I didn't come across a lot of different kinds of food.  I eat white pitabread, falafel, humus, cuecomber, tomato and sometimes spinich/cheese. 

After being bribed by a cabdriver again, waiting for food when hungry, changing restaurant and waiting again I gave up for today. (Also my blog is not the best one this week by the way)

I walked back on my own realising I need space to feel comfortable. Just like the locals tell me. 

But, as promissed; something positive: I went to the location where I perform with Mohammed. Good news; he's evailable from monday again.

That means we have 3 days to make the performance. But the location is so inspiring! There is a hole in the roof so I like to see talking heads there haha. Let you know!

btw I collected 41 hearts now (pictures that is).

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 7 - meeting rappers and searching for love

 Today I searched for love. Why? Because when media highlights one side of reality, it seems really big. And what we see in the news is mostly negative and destructive. I'dd like to highlight another side of Israel > 

Rappers in the mood...

Yesterday Mohammed, my partner told me that the father of his wife died. When these things happen they get priority above all things and it brings you back to the things that really matter. 

Nevertheless I have no actor for the next days, so I concentrated on two rappers that already collaberated last year for this festival. They performed some songs for me and I let them hear mine from ten years ago. 

The twins are 16 but look like 26, and after seeing them rap I'm sure it's not because of there looks.

They took me to their home and when we walked accros the souk (market) I felt less like a tourist, because I was with them, handshaking every ten meters with their friens or familly. Sometimes they kiss on the cheeks (2,3 or even 6 times) sometimes they shake hands and sometimes they hug. I asked what was the difference for them and it was just about how long ago you last saw a person.

Mohammed (yes, his name was also Mohammed) was the one to speak to, as he was the only one who spoke some English. 

He welcomed me to their house. First he showed me the camera's that are installed even at the back of these houses to guard the Palestinians. "this is our kitchen" and he laughed when he was pointing out two gaspits. He greedet his mother by taking her hand, kiss it and put his forehead on her hand, three times. His twinbrother Ali did the same. I was deeply touched by this gesture while thinking of my own mother. 

He showed me the living room which was also their sleeping room: 2 by 3 meters for the mother her two sons and their friend, which was there all the time with us but didn't say a word. I guess saying words was ment for the rappers. A verry small window with thick metal bars that we see in front of allmost all windows in this area, gave us the view of some squere meters from the souk below. The boys just want to perform there songs, which are very political, and that's not exactly what this underground festival is about. It's about small stories, personal ones that have (mostly) nothing to do with the tensions between cultures and politics. They were not very interested to share a personal story and who can blame them? We are so used to deal with freedom in the Netherlands that we have a lot of space and time to choose our daily kind of bread. I feel pretty stupid now with my 'positive' ideas from last afternoon.

Tomorrow I meet them again in the cultural centre where we can rehearse. I will check the location where I am supposed to perform with the other Mohammed my partner. Also I would like to work again on wispering eachothers lenguages in the ear so that the other one shares it with the public. 

It's a nice way of feeling responsebility for your wordchoise. It's a nice way to show transparancy and innocence, it's a nice way of saying: I could be you.

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com